


Sands

by Taim



Series: Fandomstuck Smut Series [10]
Category: Fandomstuck - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:44:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taim/pseuds/Taim
Summary: He says he doesn’t remember how it started. It sounds like an excuse even to your ears, just some reason to keep coming back to you. You wonder what he tells himself to make this feel a little less wrong.Dragon!Homestuck and Human!Supernatural, with scatterings of fluff but mostly a lot of smut.





	

He says he doesn’t remember how it started. It sounds like an excuse even to your ears, just some reason to keep coming back to you. You wonder what he tells himself to make this feel a little less wrong.

The first time, he was rushed and terrified, his heart pounding so hard you could feel it through his body. He thought you were going to kill him. Nevermind that he came here willingly, or that he undressed and stood before you so appetizingly. You gave him every chance to leave. You asked him if he truly wanted to sacrifice himself. He still screamed when you pinned him to the floor. 

You were gentle. His cries stopped and the tears started. He cried through that first time. Were you really so frightening to him? Or perhaps he was just frustrated. He told you later that he came to you because he wanted to die. 

You took him slowly. You had made him prepare himself as you watched, not letting him rush you before his body was ready. He still stretched so far around you though, that beautiful skin so lovely against your scales. He was so warm, inside and out. You felt like you were burning. He told you later that you felt like fire against him.

He was as quiet as he could be the first few minutes. You held him still with your many arms and pumped into him steadily, gently rubbing that hidden place inside him. He tried not to moan, but you wanted him to enjoy this. He admitted afterwards that he did.

He had asked for more during it as well. He was the first you’d ever had demand for you to go faster. His body wasn’t made to handle your size but he still wanted more.You had flipped your positions then, rolling on your back and pulling him with you. The expanse of his back pressed fully to the scales of your torso and you used him like a toy. He cried out over and over and you could feel his tears steaming off your skin as you heated up, slowly getting more aroused. He could feel your length getting longer, firmer. His body couldn’t keep you out even if he wanted to. You speared him open and forced him to take your full length. And still he shouted for more.

You didn’t fill him that first time. Instead, you pulled out and watched as your seed covered his stomach, right where the bulge of your length used to be. He gasped and shuddered through his own climax then, his fluids cooler than your own and a little more white. You held him afterwards, careful with your claws as you wiped him clean. He was so still, so quiet. You feared he was hurt. Eventually he asked for a bath and you took him deeper into your cave. He sighed when you set him into the hot spring and sounded so beautiful when he asked you not to leave him.

He stayed with you for a few days before you sent him back with a single yellow scale. You didn’t expect him to return. The summer passed quickly after him.

You think of that first time very often.

\--

The second time was much more heated. He had prepared himself before and held himself much more proudly before you. He demanded and you gave. He moaned as soon as you grabbed him, two hands on his hips and another in his hair. You dominated him that time and he bent so perfectly before you. He was a tree on a cliff and you were the raging storm tearing him apart. 

He screamed your name that time, the sounds rough on his human tongue. It sounded like music to you. You pounded into him like you were trying to punish him. Perhaps that’s what he was wanting. When you finished, he was delirious with pleasure and had been pushed so far past his own climax that it would have become painful soon.

A night passed. He took the red scale you offered and went back to the village sitting far below your mountain. It was autumn.

He came again before the season was out and asked you for punishment this time. You didn’t take his body this time. He smelled of blood and battle and you didn’t ask why he wanted to be hurt. Instead, you dragged your teeth and claws down his skin. You whipped him and beat him and ignored when he begged you to stop. When you finally let him relax, he was covered in your marks. None had broken the skin, but all were inflicted to cause the most lasting pain.

You could smell his arousal throughout, and you could sense when he had reached climax. He looked so conflicted when you finally looked at his face. He wanted you to take him. You refused. 

This went on for two more days. He left before you could ask him to stay again after the third session. He carried four more red scales. You were achingly hard during the nights that followed but couldn’t touch yourself through the unease in your chest.

You avoid thinking about those times, but the dreams plague you. This season felt much longer than the ones before.

\--

The winter was the coldest in twenty years. You met him halfway up the mountain and carried him up the rest of the way. He would have frozen within the next ten miles had you not. You didn’t tell him that, nor could you answer when he asked how you knew he was there. You do not know how you knew. Or perhaps you don’t want to consider what it means.

You were much slower this time, laying him on his back and watching his face. He looked like an angel when he smiled. His cries were even sweeter when you could see the ecstasy they carried. He held you close that time and you let your hands travel all over him. You memorized him that time, keeping his body burned into your sense memory. You’d know him anywhere now. His scent, his sounds, his skin, all of him. You knew him now.

He whispered your name over and over again and you had to wrench yourself away to keep from filling him.

He cried afterwards. He told you of the war and of the lives he had taken. He was still struggling with his guilt and couldn’t face the other men in the village. They celebrated and ate and drank to be merry. He drank to forget and ended up remembering it all clearer.

You held him but said nothing. You were just another of his demons that he didn’t need to face at the time.

He carried six ice-blue scales this time and you carried him to his village. He didn’t want you to leave.

Winter was long and bitter. You worry for him over these memories. They return far too much for comfort.

\--

He did not return in spring and you mourned not getting to show him your magnificent green scales. You did not seek him out. The days passed entirely too slowly and you felt yourself going mad. 

He did not come back in summer. You went to find him on the day of the summer solstice. The trees wore their summer crowns and the village had donned it’s wedding decorations. A soldier was getting married. He was not your boy and you ignored the proceedings. You went home with a heavy heart.

Fall bled into winter. Everything was cold and dark. Your scales were the dark brown of old blood and you burned every trace of life from your mountain until it was as barren as you felt. Your colors faded to black and you lay in the rain until you felt that perhaps you could freeze here for a decade.

You did not regain your color in spring. A year had passed and he had not come to you again. You should not have grown attached to him. You could sense that he hadn’t died, but you could not imagine why he would stay away.

\--

When he returned, he was no longer a boy. It had been two years since the last time you saw him. It was winter again and he had climbed the mountain on his own. Any other man would have been killed. His face was worn and showed the signs of his travels. He told you he went by Nathaniel instead of Nat now. He told you he had been roaming to settle his mind. He apologized for disappearing and for not returning sooner. 

You listened to him speak without saying a word. You had grown older and harder, your heart not as in tune with his as it once was. You let him tell you his stories and about the marvels he’d seen, but still you did not soften to him. When he finally grew angry with you, you reacted.

You aren’t sure what moved both of you at that point, but it was so easy to fall into sync with him. His clothes came off so easily when you tore them, claws shredding the fabric like that of the heroes you’d slain. His skin burned like your mountain had, and he shuddered at how cold yours had become.

To this day, you can’t remember what you had growled as you took him. You remember roaring and growling and having your way with him until he was calling your name. His shouts of  _ “Yours! I’m yours!” _ have seared their way into your memory though, and you wonder if there was ever any other way for your stories to have ended except together.

You filled him that time, and kept going. He was such a strong young man at that point that he didn’t even ask to stop. You took him and filled him and continued to force your seed inside him and never once did his cries of pleasure stop. He clung to you and kept demanding more from you, begging for all you would give him. And through it all he kept proclaiming your ownership of him. 

You never planned to bite him. You never planned to make him your life-mate. But some things are meant to be and you’re not sure if you want to question this.

He hadn’t said a word about the wound until you had finished. You stayed deep inside him as you both finally calmed. The anger subsided and your scales slowly warmed again, and you licked the blood from his shoulder. The single tooth mark was clean but deep, as if he hadn’t pulled away at all. Perhaps he saw it coming and knew what you had wanted. The thought is a bittersweet comfort. If he knew and still hadn’t fought, maybe he wanted this as well.

You both spoke together afterwards, all quiet words and soft hands. You traced his body once more, finding the old scars you had remembered and the new muscles he’d gained with age and travelling. You explained what the bite meant for your kind and he returned your sentiments. He wanted to stay with you. 

When you both cleaned up later, he murmured that he was glad to have lived that first time.

\--

He did not leave after that. He collected your black scales as you shed them and your colors returned. You did not go back to the emerald of spring, but became the gold of a mated dragon.

He showed you the round pendant he had made of your scales during his travels. The six white-blue scales made up the outer edge, the red made an inner circle, and the first yellow scale you gave him lay in the center. The sight made something within you stir and you went to work. The black scales you had lost were harder than any metal and as light as feathers. Dragonfire and careful crafting later, and the finest armor ever seen had been created. With the gold scales you slowly shed, you made a glossy string for the pendant and a setting to keep it from harm.

You did not tell him of his true surprise. On the day of summer, four years after you first met, you waited for him outside of your cave. The forests around your mountain had begun to grow back and you smiled, watching the life under you begin again.

His face when he saw you will forever be one of your most treasured memories. He knew it was you. After your bonding, he would always know you on sight, even from miles away. Even in a new form such as now. 

His hands were even softer when he touched your cheek and you never imagined he would feel so warm. You’ll never forget the tenderness in his eyes.

“You’re human…”

You’ll never forget the way his voice sounded. He was so surprised, so touched. He knew. He knew just as he always knew. You had done this for him. You wanted to be with him.

You explained. You explained why you had done it and what it would mean for both of you. You explained what you were. You weren’t fully human. You could change back if you needed, but it took a lot of energy to transform between them. But you wouldn’t be a full dragon again. You were a changeling, of sorts. But most people wouldn’t question your golden eyes or the scale hanging on a black wire around your neck. 

You were as good as human.

And that day is one you’ll cherish always.


End file.
